


Press Day (Lena Luthor POV)

by villanevefc



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bisexual Kara Danvers, F/F, Gen, Lena Luthor-centric, Lesbian Lena Luthor, Meet-Cute, POV First Person, POV Lena Luthor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villanevefc/pseuds/villanevefc
Summary: An alternate-universe meet-cute for Lena Luthor and Kara Danvers from Lena's persepctive. A work-in-progress but I like how it's going and I hope you do too! :)
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Kudos: 27





	Press Day (Lena Luthor POV)

# Press Day

With its sleek and simple design, my office is the epitome of modern utilitarianism. The floor and walls are a monotone grey. The desk is ink black, and its shadows conceal the drawers to give it an unblemished face. The only other furniture that afflicts the workspace is a simple sectional couch and the twin bookcases standing guard on either side of the desk. The room’s color palette of grey, white, and black would make Picasso sob. 

The total lack of any features or character in the wide room gives it a secluded and mysterious feeling that often reminds me of the famed Fortress of Solitude. I sometimes wonder what Superman must feel when he takes up residence in his Fortress. Does the simplicity give him comfort? Or does the vastness of the uncluttered space radiate the loneliness of an icy tomb?

Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to ask him. But it’s not Superman who stands before me now. Not even Superman could brighten up the Fortress as much as the smile of the woman standing before me.

I shoot awkwardly out of my chair and stick out my hand. The shock of seeing brilliant warmth in such a cold space hits me like a brick, and for a moment words elude me.

She gently shakes my hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Ms. Luthor.”

I shake myself out of my shock and finally regain the use of my tongue. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Danvers.” The presence of this grinning, brightly-dressed young lady in my office is as much a contrast to the cool business folk I see daily as the sun is to Pluto’s moons. I gesture to the chair facing my desk and she sits.

“I really admire your work in the healthcare field,” the woman begins. “I read that L-Corp is exploring antiviral applications to gene-editing technology.”

I smile and nod. “We’re very excited to branch into the biochemistry sector. We believe it will provide many more options for viral treatment.” I cringe inwardly as I realize I inadvertently quoted a line from the press release that came out earlier today.

Ms. Danvers nods emphatically, graciously choosing to ignore my blunder. She pulls out a pen and poises it above the manila notepad on her lap. My company has a strict no-recording rule for private interviews. I guess it’s much harder for the PR team to clean up a potential debacle if it’s recorded in my voice.

“How would you describe your leadership style?”

The question catches me off guard. I expected this press cycle to remain fixated on L-Corp’s financial growth and recent venture into virus research-- not on me. “I suppose … I give employees freedom to experiment and take projects in new directions,” I venture. 

Her smile encourages me to continue. “I once had a boss who micromanaged every little thing his employees did--” I laugh before realizing I’m describing my father’s reign on L-Corp to a reporter. I quickly wrap up my thought. “I’ve just learned that people tend to work best when they have room to innovate.”

She nods as she furiously scribbles on her notepad. I squint at her visitor’s name tag. Danvers, Kara. I smile at the easy alliteration of the name. Kara finishes writing, and I quickly look away. 

“What do you do to relax?”

“Not this!” I flush as I realize what I just blurted out. To my pleasant surprise, she laughs. The room, already illuminated by her bright presence, seems to glow even brighter with the noise. I start laughing with her, and a slight thrill sets in. Maybe press day won’t be so awful this time. 

The interview flashes by in a blur. Her questions are more personal than those I typically answer, but she has a way of gentle coaxing that lulls me into a sense of safety. It feels less like an interview with a national news network and more like a conversation between two old friends.

I fall so deep into this trance that when my secretary pushes open the door, I realize we’ve gone three minutes over our allotted time. Kara beams at me and shakes my hand again. 

“It was so nice talking to you, Ms. Luthor. I hope we can talk more in the future.”

“Yes, you too!” I mumble before the absurdity of what I said registers with me. Kara grins and starts toward the door. I’m struck by the urge to stop her and make up an excuse to keep talking. I frown and shake the thought out of my head. It’s press day, and we’re already running a few minutes behind schedule. Kara passes through the door and Samantha, the secretary, smirks at me. I shoot her a glare. Samantha possesses the unfortunate ability to read me like a book, and she loves gossip. I can see her practically buzzing with the urge to interrogate me about my meeting with the beautiful journalist. She smiles innocently in response to my glare and beckons in the next interviewer.

A man steps in. His immaculate grey suit brings me back to the monotony of the business world and I wince. Samantha gives me an encouraging thumbs-up and closes the door behind her.

“Good morning, Ms. Luthor,” the visitor enunciates crisply. I detect a slight English accent. He shakes my hand and sits down, pad and pen in hand. “Your company recently made an appearance in The Wall Street Journal as your stock prices rose 5.8%...”

I shift my focus to the window behind him and tune him out for a moment to allow myself an inward sigh. It’s press day.


End file.
